


The Minor Fall, The Major Lift

by JGoose13



Series: A Cold and Broken Hallelujah [1]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Captain America (Movies), DC Cinematic Universe, DCU (Movies), Man of Steel (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Again, Character Death, Implied Relationship, M/M, Spoilers, just sadness, lots of sadness on Steve's part, spoilers for batman vs superman, uh... I don't know what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6357157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGoose13/pseuds/JGoose13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR BATMAN V SUPERMAN**</p><p>News travels quickly...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Minor Fall, The Major Lift

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BATMAN V SUPERMAN YET OKAY.
> 
> Title is a lyric from "Hallelujah."

It’s the most beautiful day that he’s seen in so long.

Coming out of a horrible winter, when gifted with a gorgeous early spring day, one takes advantage. Or, one would, if one was not a full time Avenger and de facto leader. But there’s a flight, a mission to accomplish…

Thankfully, it was also an equally beautiful day in Eastern Europe, where Captain Steve Rogers and his team were currently tracking down some exra heads of Hydra that had slipped through the cracks.

Sam, bless him, was swinging back around from a recon mission when the news came over the comms. Tony was reporting in from Avengers Tower in New York, giving an update on a situation that was occurring currently in Gotham and Metropolis. There was zero time for Steve to check in on the nearest television, to dwell on worry, but whatever the happenings, the captain was sure that Clark… or rather, **Superman** … had everything under control. He always did, that calm putting Steve to shame, that calm keeping him sane when he’s sure he’ll go right out of his skin…

It’s not until they’re on their way back to upstate New York when Tony hits the quinjet with the news. Superman and company had saved the day, again. But at a terrible price…

_I’m sorry, Steve… Supes… Supes is gone._

It was as though he were hit in the chest by a freight train. Big body stumbles backward into a rack of bundled-up parachutes. Sam is talking to him, reaching for him, but he can’t hear what his friend is saying, the silence is deafening, the despair all consuming… Limbs feel heavy and weak, and before he realizes it, his knees are hitting the metal floor with a loud clang. Breathing becomes labored, chest heaving to catch a breath, hands positively shaking. It’d been so long since he’d felt the grips of an asthma attack, but he sure hadn’t forgotten the symptoms. Nor those of sheer panic…

Steve doesn’t realize that he had been shouting: a long, low wail of grief and pain, until he’s finished and his throat aches. _Just like the huge, gaping hole in his chest._ His fists are pounding the floor, blood spattering the leather of his fingerless gloves and the metal grating beneath him as gashes open on his knuckles and fingers. This time Nat’s coming at him, wrapping her arms around one of his, Rhodes came at the other, both teammates curling their bodies inward, offering their strength and comfort. It wasn’t enough… it wasn’t _his_ strength, _his_ comfort…

He’d lost someone. **Again**. Someone that he couldn’t save. **Again**.

What had happened? Clark was indestructible. Clark had taken a damn nuke and bounced back…

Over the next couple of days leading up to the funeral, Steve confined himself to his rooms at the Avengers base. One by one, his team came knocking, each trying different tactics to coax him out. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Simply clutched at the cellphone that displayed this… this completely dorky selfie they’d taken together a few months back. He’d never see that smile again or hear that laugh… _he’d never gotten a chance to say goodbye_ …

There’s an elaborate ceremony in D.C. But it’s not the one he knew Clark would have wanted. Clark wasn’t a soldier. The gun salute, the folded flag… it wasn’t _him._ That kind hearted **man** from Kansas that would help you move on a Sunday and cook you a meal to raise your spirits.

Steve went alone, standing in the background of the Kent family home during the wake, standing in the background of the ceremony, standing in the background amongst the gravestones as they lowered that pinewood box into the earth. Steve hadn’t been able to step up to the open casket, to look down at that face he’d committed to memory. Hadn’t even gotten the nerve to give his condolences to poor Martha Kent, who’d lost about as much as he himself had. Only Lois Lane, strong, beautiful, wonderful, Lois Lane, had even taken note of his presence. 

“Come on…” She says softly, holding out a hand that he reluctantly takes. Everyone had dispersed, returning to the Kent farm for food and soft words of remembrance. It was just them and two lone figures swathed in black, standing on the periphery. Steve isn’t an idiot; he recognizes one of them as billionaire Bruce Wayne, an acquaintance of Tony’s and the bat of Gotham. The dark haired woman, he doesn’t know, but can only imagine was the unknown armored female that had helped the Batman and… and…

“Talk to him…” Lois spoke again, curling her arm into the crook of Steve’s. He sagged, that brave woman somehow keeping him standing. Jaw is tight, a bitter, hard lump in his throat keeping the words at bay.

“I can’t…” Steve breathed, coming out on a choked sob. “I don’t…” He doesn’t know what to say. _Because he’s ashamed_. Clark was always there to save _his_ day when it went south… why hadn’t he been there to save _Clark’s_? 

He’s done this death thing way too many times. He’s played this funeral dirge too often…

And it was never _him_. Always someone he cared about…

“He would have wanted to hear your voice one last time,” Lois said softly, nudging her shoulder against his arm.

Hot tears sting at his eyes until they fall over and roll down his pale cheeks. Eyes close, and there’s Clark’s smiling face, one azure eye closing momentarily in a wink. Steve’s own blues opened, the ghost of Clark’s lips pressed to his cheek, a memory…

A breathy pause, a shaky inhale of breath…

“ _I love you_ …”

It’s a beautiful day amongst the farmlands of Kansas. Yet it’s the darkest Steve has ever experienced.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this drabble on Tumblr. There aren't enough stories in the Clark/Steve tag so I figured I'd add. This is a severely underrated crossover ship. Seriously, more people need to write things and do fan art and... yes.


End file.
